ENiD + RAD

Once we're grown, the opportunity to mess up, grandly, diminishes. Sure we make mistakes, but we smooth them over and hide them when we can.

It’s one of the most important lessons of show biz: keep going - no one knows you messed up unless you tell them! 

(Remind me, someday, to tell you how at age 12, for my “biography oral presentation” I chose Groucho Marx’s autobiography. I killed. In retrospect. . . this reveals so much about me.)

But sometimes your fumble is public. Sometimes everyone knows. Sometimes you have to tell people. 

Losing your job is one such public fail. 

No matter how you polish it, there’s the inevitable questions: whose decision was it? (not mine); why did they choose you? (don’t really know/will always wonder/I have my suspicions); what will they do without you (no longer my circus nor my monkeys, but they’ll be fine. No one is as important as they might think - not even me); what will you do next? (honestly, I’m pretty scared, I have no real idea, are you hiring?). 

That’s where I’m at. I misplaced my job. A job I really liked, most of the time, and one I was, by pretty much all accounts, quite good at, even during a pandemic. 

So, I’m leaning in (hate that term, thank you Cheryl) to the public failure. Or, let’s call it, risk taking. Vulnerability. Mediocrity. Learning and growth. 

About a week before I found out I’d be laid off, I bought season passes to our local ski hill. In hindsight, not the most financially prudent choice, but it seemed like a safe way to stay active this pandemic winter. The irony, of course, is that if I hadn’t lost my position, I wouldn't have had the time to take advantage of all the mountain time. Silver lining? A few times a week now I pop over and go snowboarding. This involves the always scary, to me, chairlift egress. I learned to snowboard in my early 20’s, which, ahem, means I’ve now been doing this off and on for 20 years. And I still can’t do this smoothly. But, I love to snowboard. When I very ungracefully slide off the lift, and occasionally fall, I get up and move along. Honestly, who cares?

I’m working on fostering the spirit of trying, sometimes falling, and moving along with grace; in myself, and hopefully in the ones I care for around me too. Will I post awkward videos of myself playing clunky chord transitions and singing moderately off key to 90’s grunge-pop? YES. Will I dance with my coffee in the morning behind my kids’ zooms? YEP. 

And have I started this site, ENiD + RAD without a clear gameplan. YES, yes I have. While I AM scared about what comes next, and there are moments I cringe when I put myself out there, whether on socials, on my snowboard, or professionally, I also know this works. I’ve also witnessed firsthand that the world’s greatest minds don’t have all the answers either, and could stand to learn a few things from people like you and me. I know from practice that when you try, you eventually get to something good. My snowboarding has improved considerably this winter, and the rush of learning and seeing persistence pay off has been a welcome boost during an otherwise challenging period. I’m willing to take the bumps and risk the embarrassment to get there. 

Enid, first, was a company I started as a homesick 6yo recently transplanted from LA to Boston. It was a travel service, set up in my driveway on a suburban dead end, named after my initials. I sold tours of my favorite places in Los Angeles: mostly the La Brea Tar Pits, Tito’s Tacos and Flax Art Supply. I’m tapping into this entrepreneurial spirit as I launch this collective, and eventually, my consulting company, Enid & Co, where I’ll work within the creative industries to explore growth at the edges and transgress boundaries through interdisciplinary thinking.

I welcome others to join ENiD + RAD with me who are ready to build an equitable local economy. What do you want to try out? What do you want to talk about and share? Let’s bake bread, make puppets, play music and grow roses together, and then let’s tell other people about it and listen to them too. 

We all need a place to take risks and grow. Want to make rad stuff with us?